#ro darin

The bonfire is roaring, giving out light and warmth against the cold, dark of the night and Darin leans back against a chest, now half empty of the food, blankets and drinks they started their evening with. It’s peaceful, the waves lapping against the pebble shore and the stars giving light almost more than the sliver of a moon. Darin looks to his left, at the figure perched on log just a arms reach away, scanning the empty beach. He sighs and pats at the blanket he sits on for a third time. 

“We are safe, there’s no mystery assassins ready to have my head if you let your guard down. Besides this was supposed to be the one night we can relax,” Darin tries to reason, to canoodle but his shadow just looks back at him, expression indecipherable from behind the mask. The sign they’re still working, posture rigid and hands twitching from time to time to a threat that Darin is sure is not there.

“There’s three black backed scorpions just outside the circle of light and I saw something huge moving in the sea. Did you know there’s a sudden drop in the seafloor a stone throws distance from the shore and I saw something move just now? Something bigger than a horse?” 

The dry, unimpressed tone with a nudge of their chin towards the sea makes Darin pause and glance at the black depths. He sees nothing, as usual when MC gives a small peak to what it means to have a member of their order at his back. Well, if he was being honest to himself, and why wouldn’t he be, he’d rather have them somewhere nicer than his back.

“I’m sure we can handle a few insects and I doubt whatever you saw in the sea is a real threat. Our luck can’t be that bad..” A tossed pebble hits his chest and the thought trails off to stare incredulously at MC. They retreat their hand back to the hilt of their weapon, giving him a shrug with one shoulder.

“You shouldn’t say such foreshadowing out loud. I do believe our luck could be that bad.” The tone is dry but Darin knows it’s not teasing but a belief. He blows out a frustrated sigh. 

“I know but it’s a rare night of peace.”

“We’re sitting targets with the fire and no cover except for some rocks.” 

A thought, an idea, comes to Darin and he stands up. “Don’t you see in the dark?”

A suspicious glance, a timid agreement follows Darin as he takes the jug that had held their drinks before before walking to the water. 

“What are you doing?” MC asks, just by his elbow and Darin starts. The times he’s reminded how good, how different (deadly his minds whispers, sharpened to danger by war) they are makes his skin crawl. 

“Making sure we’re no longer targets,” he smiles and fills the jug. He does not look further away, to the endless dark waters and whatever may hide there. 

The fire dies after a few jugs of water and he is left in complete darkness, the shy light of the stars giving just enough light to justify keeping his eyes open.

“Leveled the playing field for you?” He asks and reaches out into the darkest shadow by his side. A hand curls their fingers around his, the softest touch of lips on his scarred knuckles.